Journal Entries

May 28th- Day 37- 6.9 + 2 miles from stream before Spunky Edison Road at mile 471.3 to Casa de Luna 2 miles off of mile 478.2

I wake up enough to register Julian and Anika packing up, then fall asleep, my back softening against the ground again. The sun is up and dappling the campsite with the shadows of the trees that overhang and shelter it from the sky. I pull myself out of my sleeping bag, and lazily get packed up. I pack my sleeping bag away, put my shoes on, then open up my food bag. I spread cream cheese onto a bagel and eat it for breakfast. Then I pack my food bag away and nestle the rest of my belongs around it, everything exactly where it belongs. My clothes sit around the base of the food bag, then my pot and the ziplocs with my water filtering kit and electronics and bathroom kit and maps.

I put my earphones in and start up the Juno soundtrack that I got in Agua Dulce and zone out as the trail winds around and over ridges. I think about Juno, the movie, and try to remember what scene each song played in. I feel very happy right now, in this moment with the sun rising behind me. I have a strong desire to be a Creative Writing major, to be able to tell stories and create characters that will give people this giddy joy that I feel when I think about my favorite stories. The characters that I hold under my skin, like pieces of sand in oyster shells forming pearls. Even though it goes against my practicality and desire to be able to have a skill that I can use to help others. I don't know. I want to become a better writer.

The soundtrack ends, and I see day hikers pose for a selfie across the lush green valley. I must be close to the road (what is it they say about birds being a sign of land?). I let my songs play on shuffle for a while, but I'm not feeling it so I put my headphones away and walk. Over a final ridge on gentle uphill, my arms sticking to my sleeves with sweat. I pause to finish off the last of my peanut butter crackers, which stick in a dry mass to the corners of my mouth. I wash it down with some of the last of my water, and start walking again. There are black flies everywhere today that find my skin whenever I stop and they bite me, a sharp pain on the backs of my knees or on my neck. I don't take breaks when there are flies, but they don't bother me much at all compared to mosquitos. I can handle flies.

I walk to the road and across it, then pause. I could walk on; I want to walk on; walking on would be so easy. I'm totally peopled out still from the amount of people at Hiker Heaven, and still have a strong urge to find a campsite very far away from people and just recharge. But, Casa De Luna is down this road. I would seriously regret it if I didn't go, and as far as I know I'm hiking the PCT once and this is my only chance ever. I peer around hopefully for something like a sign posted about Casa De Luna or shuttles into Green Valley, but there's nothing.

I don't feel like hitching and all of the cars driving by look nice and expensive and I doubt they'd stop, so I start walking down the road. I start hitting houses, which all have eccentric front yards, and have signs posted telling the car drivers to slow down. There is a stuffed orangutan hanging up maids down from a tree with a slow down sign. I feel weird walking in front of people's houses or I'd take a picture.

I finally reach the market. A huge group of young guys waves at me from the parking lot, and I stand there uncomfortably while I try to decide why they're waving at me- it's a somewhat run-down town and I'm on my toes and why are people from a group of 20 guys waving at me like they know me- but by the time I decide they might be just friendly (??) it's too late to smile back and be a good trail representative; So I start walking down side streets, following the map on my phone to Casa De Luna, which is one of the famous trail angel houses along the trail, along with Hiker Heaven, Scout and Frodo's, and the Dinsmores. I feel silly walking through the houses to a place that I'm not even entirely sure exists, someplace like this surely can't exist? I feel tired and muted.

Someone walking by points me up the hill to the Casa, and I walk a bit further until I catch sight of my friends sitting on a couch on a driveway. I walk up, and a volunteer named Country Gold gives me a short run-down and tells me to go inside to get some pancakes from Joe Anderson. I set my pack against the back of one of the couches and go inside. I get to meet Joe Anderson, and grab a plate of pancakes. I eat them outside and then pick out a Hawaiian shirt from a rack snd switch it out for my smelly, damp hiking shirt. Cotton is bliss! Then I hang out with everyone and talk all day.

Twinkle Toes is here, and Kyra and Hop Along. Godongo, Ninja Tortoise, Catch Em, Anika and Julian, Morgan (possibly Pancakes now) and Louise, The Mayor... the bubble of people I hiked into when I left my group a week or two back to become a solo hiker is no longer a crowd of strangers, but a crowd of friends.

I paint a rock to look like a mountain with a quote on it, "you are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you belong here," get a big hug from Terry Anderson, and explore the forest out back. There are painted rocks piled everywhere, and I read them and explore the maze of trails that wind under a roof of smooth, red-trunked manzanita trees. I find one painted with a llama wearing a jetpack, and get excited because I know it must be Rocket Llama's, who draws a beautiful web comic about her PCT thru-hike that I love reading. In the very back of the forest, a minute's walk past any other campsite, there's a small clearing big enough for one tent. Some painted rocks around it say: "Any child conceived within these trees shall be named Tonka."

I find a spot closer to the house hidden behind some other campsites, and spread out my groundsheet and sleeping pad. Then I go hang around some more. Terry Anderson is awesome, and we get to talk to her some more. Hop Along is talking with a girl named Mika, who is also 18! I sign my name on the big sheet hung by the garage, next to Linus's name since he gave me my trail name. I thought he was behind me, or maybe there's another Linus?

I yogi a ride to the convenience store with Twinkle's friend who came to visit, and get an ice cream sandwich and a pint of chocolate peanut butter ice cream, and an Arizona Tea Arnold Palmer. I hang around and eat my ice cream, and when I'm full I give the rest to Catch Em. We talk about accents, and how the Russian language seems intimidating, and German harsh. Apparently English sounds easygoing.

It's getting dark, and Terry turns on some music. We all have to dance to get our PCT class bandanas. I'm usually okay with dancing but when I know everyone's going to be watching I feel incredibly shy. Hop Along's knee gives out as she's dancing up with me. After the bandanas no one seems to want to keep dancing, and I don't want to dance alone, so I head back into the forest with Kyra to find my cozy spot under the trees.

Banquet Reservoir being a delicious tantalizing body of water, yet so far away... You can tell how sunny and warm it is because all of these pictures have sun streaks.

Official PCT road walk getting out of Agua Dulce. It would be inappropriate to pee in someone's front yard.

May 27th- Day 36- 16.9 miles from Hiker Heaven at mile 454.4 to stream before Spunky Edison Road at mile 471.3

There is damp all over my sleeping bag. It was humid last night and condensation has infiltrated the camp. A row of colorful sleeping bags joins mine on the arbor to dry in the morning sun, and I use my loaner shirt to wipe the inside of my tent dry, or at least drier.

I have to put my sleeping bag away before anything else, so I have to wait for it to get dry before I can start packing up. I pull it down from the arbor and wave it back and forth through the air, impatient. Finally I determine it's dry enough, and pack away my things.

I sit in the electronics dome and talk to my mom while my phone charges. People duck in and out of the low entrance to plug their phones in on the jungle of chargers and cords. I say goodbye to my mom. The goodbye is always difficult for both of us, and I try not to cry when I have to hang up. I'm getting antsy to start hiking.

I go back down the hard, across the grey-water draining down a landscaped stream bed and finish packing up my stuff. The police siren-noise starts playing and they announce that the truck is about to leave for town. I run-walk back up to the entrance. I drop my donation off and they take my picture.

The shuttle is already full to the brim, hikers crammed into the truck bed hugging their backpacks. The driver tells us he'll come back and make another run. I wait with a bunch of other hikers and get to meet Pegasus, a solo Asian hiker. She always writes her trail register entries in a beautiful, neat cursive, and it's nice to put a face to the handwriting. She uses handkerchiefs tucked under her shoelaces for gaiters, and has batik fabric sewn into her sleeves to protect her hands from the sun.

We get a ride to the corner of the main street. Colleen is here and I give her a big hug; she's hitched here for breakfast, but she's back at the Acton KOA (I like how people say that when they've hitched ahead to a town further up trail, as if they're just avatars or holograms). Almost immediately upon getting there, another guy pulls up and offers everyone a ride to the trailhead. Several hikers jump on it. "I'm going to walk my purist butt over there," I grumble as goodbye, flashing a smile behind me, and head off along the side of the road which is also the PCT.

The road walk goes by quickly, properties and fields of golden grass lining the road. I have a need to pee but there's nowhere to go. The guy who offered me a ride passes by several more times with loads of hikers in his 8-seater dune buggy. The trail leaves the road and becomes actual trail again under crackling power lines. The humming and sizzling sounds like it's coming from everywhere.

I'm exhausted from staying up late and waking up early two days in a row at Hiker Heaven, and go into autopilot, zoning out as I walk. I was too tired to write my journal post last night. The miles go by quickly this way. Multi-hued lilies are spotted along the side of the trail, magenta with blushes of yellow on the petals, white-cream with pink. I get to Bear Spring with Hop Along, and set my pack down under the trees by Cowboy and The Flash. I filter some water, then head out again.

There's a view of Banquet Reservoir, which sparkles like a blue oasis amid the lush green chaparral. From this distance, the trees on the islands in the middle look like palm trees. I wish I could be there, swimming and sitting on an island beach.

The trail crests over a ridge, then down across a road. Then up. I want to get to bed early tonight, and so want to stop early. I walk up on Julian and Anika after a stream crossing, and they invite me into their palace; Julian points out for me the Persian rug and granite countertops, the industrial kitchen. Julian pulls out a speaker and starts playing classic rock oldies, which convinces me to stay. I set up my cowboy camp under the trees and we eat dinner together, along with Focus and The Mayor, both of whom I've heard about but never met. We talk about music and Germany and the Peace Corp and news and this past election. Karma and Hop Along each pass by. Julian plays music by La Brassbanda, a Bulgarian band. It's so weird to listen to music in a different language, even though it's what everyone in other countries does.

I crawl into my sleeping bag. My knee was bothering me again on the downhills, the one that wasn't originally bothering me, and I hope it doesn't do anything bad. I don't want to be sucked into another vortex again tomorrow by stopping by Casa De Luna, but I also don't want to miss it and regret not going, so I think I'll at least visit tomorrow. We talk about the Sierra coming up soon; only about 250 miles from here. I'll be there in maybe two weeks. It's flown by so fast! I'm both excited and scared for going into the snow.

May 26th- Day 35- Zero at Hiker Heaven.

I have Full Intentions to leave today. Kyra is antsy and heads out, and will wait for Hop Along at Casa De Luna in 24 miles. There are only 4 names on the list for the shuttle to REI; Hop Along, Godongo, Rick and myself. I sit on the porch and talk with Rick about the Sierra snowpack and gear and people flipping up to Oregon or Washington, standing up every now and then to check the REI list. We need a minimum of 6 people by 10, so at 9:30 we walk around and ask people if they need to go. No Bueno. Sugar Mama or one of the other volunteers calls the shuttle company, and it's decided that we'll wait until noon to see if other hikers arrive who will want to go to REI.

The shuttle to town just left, so Rick and I decide to walk down together to get breakfast. I talked to Rick about preparation and other things quite a bit before starting the hike, so it's cool I've been at about the same pace as him. We talk more about the Sierra; with only 250 more miles and 2-3 weeks to Kennedy Meadows, it suddenly seems much more real. The guy Rick is hiking with for now wants to flip around it and walk south from Canada, but we both think that's a bad idea, since there's almost just as much snow up there, and you'd be hiking alone and breaking your own trail vs. hiking with a ton of other people in the Sierra with other people's footprints to follow, no matter how misguided they may be. It still feels very abstract.

I order Huevos Rancheros (eggs and beans with warm corn tortillas; I had no idea this was a thing so I wanted to try it) and scrape my plate clean. I left my phone and charger somewhere, I don't know exactly where back at Hiker Heaven, so I'm a bit anxious as we walk the mile back up the hill. It's not bad at all without packs on. It would be super nice to hike without a heavy pack! Rick has a heavier pack and is always light-heartedly ragging on people with lighter packs because he believes we are smug fast-walking villains or something like that, which we really are, to be honest. He's just jealous!

We get back right before the shuttle to REI is coming, and I have just enough time to find my phone and run down to my tent to empty my food bag to use as a grocery bag. I hop into the van with a bunch of other hikers. The fabric seats are soft and comfy, and I want to fall asleep as the van softly rocks back and forth. We get on the highway, and I fight back the vague anxiety that I get now when I see how many cars and people there are. The driver drops us off in front of the REI, in the LA sprawl somewhere. I grab a new pair of shoes and socks, and check out. Then I walk over to the Smart N Final next door and push a cart around to get my resupply. I get blueberry bagels and two things of cream cheese, and some mango kombucha and a peach, and other things. I can't find my peach after I pay for my groceries, and so I sit in the van drinking my kombucha while I listen to a hiker named Pogo talk with the driver. There's a busy intersection nearby, and a tangle of power lines, and so many cars that fill the entire parking lot, but I kind of just zone it out and focus on my immediate surroundings.

When I get back to Hiker Heaven, I sort and repackage my resupply on the straw bales around the fire pit, and when I pack it away my food bag is filled to the top. I throw away my dusty old shoes, kissing them goodbye and thanking them before I drop them into the trash can. Twerk walks in, and then I see Karma and Nirvana walking up the road and I run over to say hello and hug them and chauffeur them through the gates. The volunteer who gives them the tour asks them if they want a couple's trailer, and they just shake their heads and tell her they aren't a couple. I stand nearby and laugh. Platonic couple maybe.

I'm realizing that my vague resolve of this morning to get out of here is becoming less determined, with my tent still up and my belongings scattered inside. I sit in the electronics dome with Twerk and Rawhide to charge my phone. Nope, I decide, I'm definitely not leaving; it's too hard to achieve escape velocity later in the day when I still need to pack up all of my stuff.

I head out for dinner with Hop Along, a Swede with a lazy eye named Fred, and a couple, Rawdog and Buttstuff. We go to the Mexican place, which is busy. Rawdog tries to order a pitcher of margarita to go around and Hop Along goes along with it and I go along with Hop Along... Hop Along I assume for the margaritas and I to see if I could actually pull off something so daring and rebellious, but the waiter asks for IDs. My cheeks go hot and I innocently smile and say that I'm 18 so I couldn't drink the margarita anyway. My parents have always let me try alcohol, and I have no desire to be drunk so I've never really seen the appeal illicit drinking has to regular teenagers... But I can also see how blatantly breaking this taboo could be thrilling.

As everyone talks I demolish the 4 baskets of chips and salsa almost by myself. So, I'm feeling not-particularly hungry when my wet bean burrito comes, but I finish it anyway. The warm beans and cheese ooze out when I break into the elastic gluten tortilla with my fork.

We go up to the cash register to pay- I pay last, and my card declines. I remember looking at my balance earlier; I had a hundred-something dollars in checking before the REI run, and I must have depleted it and been using up all of my automatic withdrawals for the month. I feel embarrassed and pay with cash, mostly because I know that people are normally embarrassed by their cards declining and not because I actually feel I should be embarrassed. I resent the fact that I feel like I should be embarrassed! Oh well?

We walk back in the dark, stepping aside as cars rush past with their bright white headbeams leaping into the air. The last shuttle back was an hour ago. I use my phone's flashlight to illuminate the bumpy asphalt and patches of dried grass. Hop Along sings songs from musicals out loud. Wild Card is on the side of the road and invites us to share a joint- I shake my head no and keep walking with Fred, and lament to him about how it seems like everyone on the PCT smokes and drinks and how I have no interest and so feel like the odd one out constantly in town? Like everyone is drinking and smoking and so it's like they're all in on some joke while I'm sitting there pretending to laugh and I just can't relate to it.

I sit, quiet, with Twerk, Rawhide, their friend Campo, and Nirvana and Karma in the electronics tent- everyone is cracking lewd jokes that aren't funny to me and I feel slightly lonely, so I slip away to my tent and fall asleep.

May 25th- Day 34- miles from ridge before Vasquez Rocks at mile 447 to Hiker Heaven aka the Saufley's at mile 454.4

The sky is dark and I strain to see stars, without luck. Kyra's alarm goes off at 4:30 and I wake up enough to realize that we're in the middle of a cloud or fog bank. I'm warm in my sleeping bag and I don't want to get out. I'm grateful for the warm nights lately, and not having to go to sleep with cold spots and shivering.

I hike in the front, slow, my feet tired and my knee muscles achy. Kyra walks next, quiet, and then Hop Along with her freshly injured knee. It feels luxurious to hike without my hat. It's cool enough that I'm not sweating but it's so humid in the gray, dim mist that I feel gross. Ugh. I hate humidity. It makes me want to curl up in a ball.

We come over a ridge to see the highway cutting through the gray. It's overwhelming to see how many cars are coming through, on a random highway in the middle of the desert, early in the morning on a Thursday. It makes me anxious. Highways are not happy sights.

We talk and laugh as the trail teases us by winding along the road from a distance. There's a poison oak bush leaning over the trail that someone has marked with pink plastic ribbon. We finally drop down, and go through a culvert underneath the Highway. It's creepy and dark and I turn the flashlight on my phone on halfway through. A trickle of water flows in the center.

On the other side, we see Vasquez Rocks looming in front of us, curved and sculpted sediment tilted on its side and pocketed with holes. The stream running from the culvert is covered with flowers that have fallen into the water, and tadpoles wiggle along strips of algae. It's idyllic in the mist.

We stop and take pictures and laugh at ridiculous signs posted that point out different plants. How are people supposed to know what plant it's pointing out if there is a huge tangle of ten different plants by the sign?

Swayed passes by us as we wind in between the rock formations. We rise out of the for a bit into yellow grass and juniper Serengeti. We stop briefly to inspect the porta-potty at a trailhead. Hop Along comes back and reports that it's the fanciest porta potty she's ever seen, so Kyra and I have to go over to see. There's a mirror, a sink, soap, paper towels, and toilet seat covers. I see some vans drive in to Vasquez Rocks, and I find out later they're shooting a commercial.

We join a road and hike through to the center of Agua Dulce. We drop our packs at the cash register at the grocery store and get food for breakfast. Hop Along gets the avocados she's been craving, and I get a warm vegetarian breakfast burrito. We all split a four pack of cherry Reed's Ginger Ale.

As we're eating, a white truck full of hikers pulls up. It's the shuttle to Hiker Heaven, so I stuff the rest of my burrito into my mouth and jump in with Hop Along and Kyra. It's a 2 minute drive, by houses with horse pastures along a small paved road. We pull up and I get my pack from the truck bed.

We walk through a gate with a PCT marker, and immediately sit down to ogle and pet the dogs that come running over. There are 3 pit bull mix puppies that are all wriggles and hugs. We pull ourselves away for a quick tour, then back to the puppies. The mother of the 3 puppies comes up and covers my face with kisses before I can react. This is Hiker Heaven. I miss my dogs so much, and I just want lots of hugs.

We hang around and talk to people, and set up our tents. I still feel clean from my shower at the KOA but there isn't a line so I take a quick one anyway. Kyra gets on another shuttle to REI. Cotton Candy comes and she and Hop Along and I take the shuttle to town. We get Mexican, and I eat so much that I kind of want to barf. Hop Along is underage in the US (but not in Canada) and orders a mojito without them checking her ID.

Chris and Kelsey are in town to grab some food. Kelsey looks wild and dirty, his long beard mottled with dirt. Chris has a wheeze, and I say his trail name should be Wheezy, after the penguin in Toy Story, since he's a doctor for a polar expedition. He gives me the evilest eye I've ever seen, which is hilarious. I like Wheezy.

We catch the shuttle back, and hang around some more as more people I know come in. Rick is here, and Spider Bite and Galy, and the Trio, and the mermaids, the big group, Andrew, Morgan and her sister Louise, who started hiking with Morgan in Wrightwood after her college semester ended.

We get a ride into town again, and we get ice cream cones. We walk down to the liquor store to look for headphones for me. They have them, and as we're sitting in front of the hardware store while Kyra has her camera looked at, I try them out. A Vance Joy song comes on and I break into a huge smile and dance around. It's so great to be able to listen to music!!

We head back and wait for the shuttle in front of the grocery store. Twinkle Toes comes up and shouts my name excitedly when she sees me. The shuttle comes, and we stuff 22 hikers and 10 backpacks into the truck- Cotton Candy, Hop Along, Louise and I squeezed into the backseat, Morgan and another hiker in front, and everyone else crammed into the truck bed.

Then I hang out into the evening. I call my mom, talk to people, pet the dogs and horses, and get the box my family sent me. I get off the phone with my mom as it's starting to get dark, and sit with Twinkle Toes and Rick on the porch. Someone has a guitar and is singing songs by the fire pit, the lyrics to "I'm Yours" rising and falling as people join in on the chorus. Someone comes by and passes out glow stick bracelets "for safety"; I trade my purple one for a green one. We talk, then eventually I head back to my tent organize my things and get into my sleeping bag, which is so puffy from being able to sit out all day. I decide to go to REI tomorrow and get new shoes and socks even though the ride is 20$. My feet have been sad the last couple of days and I think new shoes will make them happy again. It's been almost 500 miles, which is about the right time to replace trail runners.

People talk late into the night and turn on their air mattresses. I finish writing and put my earphones in and tune out to some music. At least, that is what I predict I will be doing.

May 24th- Day 33- 16.6 miles from Messenger Flats Campground at mile 430.4 to ridge before Vasquez Rocks at mile 447

I can hear the rustle of people packing up. I look over and it's Hop Along and Kyra. The sky is still dark, but it's warm out, warm enough that I could be perfectly comfortable naked if that were my wish, which it wasn't. I pack up quickly with my red light and force myself to chew a couple of handfuls of trail mix. I sit to put my shoes on and decide to change to my second pair of socks, since the ones I've been wearing are encrusted with a mud that is a mixture of sweat and dust. They're dark and when I move them they crinkle like paper. My second pair have holes in them, in the big toe and on the bottom of my forefoot. But they're clean and smell like laundry detergent, which is luxurious.

I fold up my accordion foam pad, and wince as I fold up my crinkly Tyvek groundsheet. Hop Along and Kyra have already left, headlamps bobbing away in the dark. The noise I've made packing up has woken up other people, and I can hear their zippers zipping. Tents begin to glow like fireflies around me.

I head out. There's the faintest smudge of sun on the horizon in the crook of the mountains, greyed-out purple and orange. I smell the Poodle Dog Bush in the dark, and realize that I need to watch out for it still. I hike slow, my feet and legs warming up. I dip into a forest with hanging mosses and dead trees piled up on the slope, and think about every single horror movie I've had to watch the previews for, the horror TV shows I've accidentally watched the pilot episode of, every creepy pasta video I've watched over my brothers' shoulders, the time when I was middle-school aged and after my classes all of the kids would play Slenderman under the tables with the lights turned off.

Then the sun breaks over the horizon and the valley below slowly fills with golden light. All of the evil things are gone. I come up on Hop Along and Kyra, and sit to eat a more proper breakfast (basically just more trail mix). Across from us, we can see the trail cutting across the sides of the mountain, so far away.

I hike with them the next couple of miles to North Fork Ranger Station, where there is a cache that is the last water source until Acton. Hop Along got in first and comes out of the restroom, and announces that there is toilet paper, to which we cheer. Then we walk down the road a little bit more, everything still shaded from the sun by the mountain we just came down from. There's a cooler of sodas and ice and trail bars maintained by the rangers, which are a dollar each. I only have a 20, so Kira throws in a dollar for me and I get a cold Coke. I sit on the picnic tables and drink it, watching the big group roll in. I lick my barbecue Kettle chips bag clean, then follow after Hop-Along and Kyra down the trail.

It's hot, and my feet are sore. I leapfrog with a couple who I don't exactly remember the names of, Cowboy and The Flash being unofficial trail names they made up and aren't taking, as the big group passes by us, practically running down the hill. I try to keep up with them for a while to see what it's like, but I have to slap my feet down clumsily to match their pace. My feet hurt so I stop. At what point do I switch to a new pair of shoes? Mine feel pretty shot, the foam compressed down to almost nothing in some places so I can feel the sharp edges of rocks.

It's hot, and I'm sweating. I can see the ribbon of green down below where the road must be. A raven croaks and circles around in the strong updraft. The wind buffets my face. The sky is so blue i have to squint. I put sunscreen on my hands and the back of my neck, but it just slides around and mixes with a film of sweat.

I try to learn how to whistle as I go around the flanks of the last hill before the road where I'll walk to the Acton KOA. I blow air through my lips and try my tongue in different positions, but end up just raspberry-ing in frustration. I plop down in the dirt by the side of the trail and use my service to read articles on how to whistle. Everything contradicts everything else.

Kyra catches up and we hike the last .8 miles to the road together. My shirt sticks to me with sweat, even though there's a beautiful breeze that picks up my hat and throws it onto the side of the trail.

Kyra stops to leave a note for Hop Along, whose other knee is bothering her now, and I walk past a movie warehouse place to the KOA. There's a big teepee and a field of grass with a rotating sprinkler head spraying water into the air. I see the glint of the blue pool water and squeal a bit about it with Kyra when she catches up.

We plop our packs down on a picnic table in the shade, and we go into the store to register. I pay for showers and pool access, then go back and get a pint of rum raisin ice cream. I sit with Kyra and eat it with my spoon. A guy who is looking for David (aka This Way) comes up and gives us cold sodas. I tell him I haven't seen him since he passed me walking up out of Cajon Pass.

Then I go down to the showers and clean myself, and wash my hiking clothes in the shower, rinsing them until I don't squeeze out gray water. It's glorious to have a shower room to myself and not have to rush to finish for someone waiting or for a timed shower.

I hop into the pool and swim around for a bit, stretching my left knee, which has been tight and sore like the right one was a couple of days ago, before Deep Creek. I think it's just normal grumpiness after pulling a 24 mile day yesterday. I sit in the sun to dry, almost falling asleep.

I pull myself back to the picnic tables, where Hop Along and Kira are. Cotton Candy shows up, and we all get pizza delivered from a place in Acton. I almost finish my half of a large veggie pizza, olives and mushrooms and onions and slices of green bell pepper. I shove the rest in a ziploc bag and pack up to leave with Hop Along and Kira. I will gladly pay 15$ for pizza, apparently, but I refuse to pay 15$ to set up my tent here on a patch of dirt. Priorities.

We hike out, slow, complaining about the uphills in commiseration. I've been hanging around a lot of Canadians, and I realize I've started to end some of my sentences with an "Eh?".

We hike in the wind through wavy rock formations, the beginning of Vasquez Rocks. An outlaw named Vasquez hid here for a while. A bunch of TV shows and movies have had scenes shot here, including Star Trek and The Lone Ranger. It makes me happy that Leonard Nimoy was probably in these hills.

We consider a spot along a ridge, but decide it's way too windy. Nowhere is flat, it's all hillside, but we find another ridge that is more sheltered from the wind a minute later, and set up cowboy camps side by side. Hop Along eats her leftover pizza from a ziploc with her spoon, and we show each other pictures of our families and pets. Eventually we all cuddle up into our sleeping bags and stop talking and fall asleep.

The Mill Creek Fire Station and hikers clustering in the shade of an outhouse.

May 23rd- Day 32- 23.8 miles from Sulphur Springs Trail Camp at mile 406.6 to Messenger Flats Campground at mile 430.4

I wake up to everyone beginning to pack up around me. Swayed, Larry and Amanda are at the picnic table, almost ready to go. With my cowboy-camping superpowers, I'm up and walking before anyone else. I hop over the creek to use the outhouses there, then walk down the road, looking for the PCT sign we saw on our walk in yesterday. I can't find it, so decide to head back to the junction. The PCT split three ways, one heading south, and two heading north, which was confusing.

After bushwhacking my way across the creek, I see the PCT sign on the road, and take the trail across the creek again. I meet Swayed, Larry and Amanda there as they're walking out. Swayed starts laughing, since I got out a good 2 minutes before them and clearly got turned around.

"I went in a bit of a circle," I say sheepishly.

The trail goes along the road, and reconnects where the other trail from yesterday crosses. I think one of them was an equestrian route, but which one I'm not sure. I warm up my calves and feet, and then cruise for what feels like a hard two miles. I catch up to the Terrible Trio after falling behind for a snack break, as I will now call Swayed, Larry and Amanda, as they've all got an evil sense of humor. Or humour, since they're all either British or Canadian.

I'm surprised to come upon Anika and Julian, since Julian looked knocked low for a couple of days, sick, after Baden Powell. Apparently the probiotic drink mix I gave them helped a lot, which I'm glad about.

It turns out we've actually gone 5 miles, which is a great surprise. I sit down with them, and eat barbecue potato chip crumbs. "What is Swayed doing?" I ask, since he's further down the trail, talking to someone. They tell me there's service, after a day or two without it! Woohoo! I become the official announcer of cell service to passing hikers, and get to text my mom, and confirm my arrival date into Agua Dulce.

I pull myself up eventually, leaving a crowd of hikers with phones in my wake. It's another 5 ish miles to the next water source, at a fire station. I put my head down and cruise. A sobo stops me and tells me where the shortcut trail to the water is.

I come up to the water, and find about a dozen hikers crammed into the shade of the outhouse. I claim the picnic table with the Trio, and I filter water from the faucet and eat snacks from my food bag. The faucet sprays everywhere and I get soaked, which is good because it's hot. A construction crew comes up and sets up shade and tables, but they're just taking a lunch break from the heat and not feeding us. Entitled hikers, we are, who associate cars and people with magic surprise food.

Everyone leaves, one by one, and I claim a spot against the back of the outhouse where it's shady and eat some more food. I'm the second to-last one out, before only Pascal, who is part of the big group/clique I've been traveling around. These big groups are so contained and cliquey. When everyone is all together they just talk with each other and largely ignore the other hikers. I'm pretty sure that's how it was when I was with my group, which is now a day behind and completely morphed and amalgamated with another group. They're now calling themselves "the Assholes" apparently. But now I hike solo so I'm not even a part of them anymore, and I just hop around from person to person and meet new people to hang out with every couple of days.

I follow some hikers from a distance back to the trail, through the Mill Creek Fire Station complex and across a road. The sun is hot, and I hike, looking up from my feet to check for snakes or Poodle Dog Bush, or to glance at the dry, burnt-out hills. The sky is a single, harsh blue under the brim of my hat. I can't tell if I'm soaked with sweat or water from the faucet anymore. Sweat trickles down my bra. I have to wet the roof of my mouth periodically with my tongue, to keep it from being completely dry as I pant the hot air with my mouth. There's a merciful breeze that barely helps.

It gets cooler as I get higher and onto the other side of the mountain, where a wind threatens to take my hat away. I can smell the hot, sweet, cloying smell of Poodle Dog Bush before I see the little castle-cloisters of bright green. It's everywhere, and I'm careful to avoid it.

My feet start getting tired a mile before the stream, and I plop down in the shade for a couple of minutes with Cotton Candy, a hiker I haven't seen since camping in the Boulder fields near Sunrise Highway on day 4. She has blue cotton candy colored hair that sits in buns on top of her head, and a hot pink shirt, and green leggings, and is generally colorful and spunky.

We get to the stream in a mile, and I filter water while sitting by the big group. Everyone leaves except for Kyra and I. I eat some peanut M&M's from the huge ziploc Twinkle Toes gave me while Kyra soaks her feet, and then we hike together. Kira is a super quiet person, but we stop every now and then to admire a view or a bunch of flowers or a burnt out tree that fell over, blackened roots holding enormous white boulders.

We're hiking through some tall grass in an overgrown area full of Poodle Dog when the grass right by us erupts with buzzing. I freeze, and Kira jumps back. "Where is it?! Where is it?!" I ask. Kira tells me to move further down the trail. We watch the rattlesnake and wait for it to move. It disappears down the slope, and Kira moves by cautiously. We hike the long switchbacks together up to the top of a ridge, through forested slopes.

At the top, mountain tops rise faint and blue in the distance above a sea of white haze. Green mountains roll away below. The sun is bright and slowly falling to the horizon. It's so beautiful I want to cry, and I slow down to a snail's pace to enjoy it, walking with Cotton Candy while Kyra stops to put her knee brace on.

I throw down my groundsheet and sleeping pad at the campground, and dig out my sleeping bag to air out. The campground is officially closed, the tent-sites overgrown with grass, the bathrooms and trash cans locked. I sit and cook dinner with Cotton Candy, Hop Along, and Kira. We talk about our favorite Haiyao Miyazaki movies and I share the home vacuum-sealed bag of Parmesan I got in the hiker box in Wrightwood. The big group hangs out at another picnic table. We're excited about the ice cream and pool at the Acton KOA in 14 miles- we debate getting up early to hit the pool in the heat of the day.

I watch the sun set from my sleeping bag as I brush my teeth, stratified pink and orange glowing on the horizon. My dirt tan is super intense right now.